I Like You on Your Knees
by Amy and the Tic-Tac
Summary: Thor and Loki have an encounter, but their reactions to it are very different. PWP is an understatement: pretty much no story whatsoever, just dicks and cocks. One-shot. Loki/Thor... sort of.


Thor thumped up the spiraling stairwell, impatience lining his chiseled features. Thunder cracked outside - whether it was a coincidence of the storm or inspired by Thor's irritation was impossible to say. The celebrations had begun half an hour ago, and his brother still hadn't made an appearance. As warriors were honored one by one for their valiance in battle, Frigga had drawn her eldest son to the side with a request to go and collect the younger prince before Odin's wrath was incurred at his tardiness.

Loki had shown disregard for societal expectations and authority on many occasions, so his lateness for the current ceremony came as no surprise. Nevertheless, Thor ran the upcoming conversation through his head as he approached his brother's room, red cloak swirling around his recently-burnished armor in what he hoped was an imposing manner. Loki would likely be reading, or engaged in practicing a new spell that had caught his fancy - if he was present in his chambers at all. For all Thor knew, the mischievous prince could be anywhere in Asgard. Thor suspected he was within, though, and was prepared to counter his brother's silver-tongued arrogance with the firm command of both a future king and an older brother.

If he was present, Thor at least hoped he was dressed and ready to go. All royalty and warriors were expected to be decked out in full battle regalia, shining, clean and godly in their splendor. Thor knew from experience how much time it could take to get in and out of the layers of metal and leather that Asgardians are expected to wear at celebrations. Loki never had any trouble looking splendid, in any case.

Thor normally would have knocked before entering, as he knew from experience how possessive and territorial Loki could be about his personal space. Today his impatience had withered his respect for his brother's privacy, and he gripped a hand around the door's handle and pushed inward without a second thought.

* * *

Loki rarely overslept. This morning, however, he had been deeply engaged in a very distracting dream, and his internal clock had been entirely out to lunch.

Dreams of this nature were rare for the trickster prince, who prided himself on having exquisite control over his thoughts and his body's reactions. But such waking control had its downsides, and hormonal desires could not be removed, only compartmentalized. And biology was clearly immune to his mental tricks.

The dream was loosely based on an experience he had had when he was a young adolescent, wherein Loki had been on a hunting trip with his brother and their group of friends. Loki had accidentally stumbled across Sif bathing after they'd made camp that night, and the image had been burned into his mind ever since. In the dream, Sif had caught him watching and had decided to teach him a lesson. She had him pinned down on his back, her strong thighs gripping him hard, squeezing the breath from him, one hand pinning his wrists together above his head. Her other hand made its way up his chest and then grasped his throat cruelly, squeezing and squeezing.

The dream had not been graphically sexual in an obvious way, but Loki was very close to making a mess in his nightclothes when a timid knock at the door of his bedchamber had roused him instantly from sleep. He stumbled from his bed drowsy and panicked, tangled in his bedsheets, before snapping, "Do not enter! Who is it, and what do you want?"

A servant's nervous voice came to him from the other side of the door. "Your grace, the ceremony is about to begin, and the Allfather has requested your presence post-haste."

Oh, right.

Loki sat at the edge of his bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes and trying to ignore his erection. "Tell him I will be with them shortly!" he yelled, cursing himself inwardly for forgetting. Thirty minutes later he had hastily bathed and dressed in his battle attire. He stood before his mirror, adjusting his armor and examining himself. His fitted leather pants were never particularly modest in the crotchular region, but this morning he was really having a bit of a problem. As much as he tried to ignore them, the thoughts of his dream continued to surface in his mind, and he did not want to spend the entire several-hour ceremony sitting cross-legged, standing with an arm draped awkwardly across his crotch, and turning red every time Sif looked at him.

The last piece to his regalia was his horned helmet, sharp and gleaming even in the low light of the overcast midmorning. It mostly covered his mussed hair, though the wet curls at the back betrayed him.

He could have left then, could have made it to the ceremony slightly late, fashionably so: late enough to display his typical arrogance, but not so late as to embarrass himself and anger the Allfather. Could have, but didn't.

Instead, he fetched a facecloth and settled himself into his bedside chair, fumbling impatiently with his belt and blushing at nobody.

* * *

Thor pushed the door open and strode within as thunder cracked outside. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and his brother's name was just on the tip of his tongue when he caught sight of Loki and what he was doing.

The younger prince evidently hadn't heard the door open, and his eyes were closed in concentration. Thor stopped in his tracks, a furious flush creeping up his neck, wanting but unable to look away. Loki was sprawled out in his chair, fully dressed, helmeted head tipped forward slightly, stroking himself in wanton haste. He was breathing hard, and he twitched once or twice in response to his own touch.

Thor stared, unsure what to do.

He had never before seen Loki in such a state. They had bathed and swum naked together as boys many times, but such childish freedom had tapered off at adolescence as both boys developed a preference for privacy. Thor bragged about his sexual escapades to his friends as much as could be expected, but his brother had always been very closed about such matters, and Thor had wondered - sometimes with an embarrassing amount of interest - at Loki's sexuality before.

Now, Thor felt the familiar sensation of toeing the line between curiosity and interest, and then fell headlong into an interest that blossomed rapidly into arousal.

He cleared his throat, and then stuttered out, "_Loki_."

Loki froze and his eyes popped open in shock. An eternity of seconds passed. In one swift movement, he popped his hard cock back beneath his waistband and crossed his arms over his lap, then roared in anger. "_Thor_! How many times have I told you to _knock before you enter my chambers_?!" His face was red, rage the perfect disguise for humiliation.

Thor's blush mirrored his brother's, and he stammered, "Mother has expressed d-displeasure at your tardiness, and requests you immediately… had you forgotten the ceremony, brother?"

Loki shifted uncomfortably and would not meet Thor's eyes. "I had not. I awoke late, and was to be along shortly. I got… delayed."

"I can see that." A nervous grin shot across Thor's face, which withered instantly at his brother's murderous glare.

"Now _get out_, you insufferable lummox!"

Thor had every intention of doing just that, but for some ridiculous reason couldn't make his feet move towards the door. He hesitated, his head swimming with a fairly uncomplex combination of nervousness, embarrassment and arousal.

Loki snarled, "_Well_?"

The words were out of Thor's mouth before his brain had approved them for release. "There is no need to be embarrassed. It is a natural thing. I could… I could help you, brother. …If you wanted."

The younger prince answered with no hesitation. "I want no such thing! _Get out_!"

"Are you sure? It feels much better with assistance from another." Thor had no idea what he was doing. It was as though an invisible hand was dragging him along by the cock and paying no heed to rational thought. His legs moved him forward, and before he knew it he was kneeling in front of his brother, partly between his splayed knees. Loki recoiled from him, but his blush deepened.

* * *

Loki had been aware since he was a teenager that some of his preferences and proclivities were a bit… unusual. He had always been attracted to women as well, but there was also a different sort of enjoyment he derived that often shamed him to think about, yet was irresistible. One of the first boners he ever popped as a boy was in the training yard, in a sparring match between himself and another boy. With the help of his budding magic, he had drawn blood and completely pummeled his opponent, grinding his face into the mud under his boot, and had to be dragged off by the instructor. He had heard of battle-lust before, but nothing quite like this. It was the act of dominance and the infliction of pain itself that had aroused him so.

It embarrassed him even more deeply when the reverse brought him off, wherein he imagined himself in the position of the subjugated. He desired this less often, but the fantasy of being choked by Sif was inescapable today. He knew that no one could ever know, and that he would never be able to share such desires with anyone.

Now, Loki regarded his older brother on his knees before him, looking up at him with a want he'd never seen - or noticed - before. The idea of a sexual encounter with his brother had repulsed him at first, but seeing the mighty Thor _kneeling_to him - his older brother, the future king of Asgard, beloved by all, and the object of Loki's jealousy, resentment and inadequacy - had awoken within him something familiar. His cock twitched under his pants.

He hesitated for a moment more, and then a sly smile curled about his lips. "Yes," he growled, shifting his hips a bit. "Do it, then. Pleasure me." _Worship me_.

* * *

Thor needed no second bidding. He ran his hands across Loki's taut thighs and over the leather bulge at their center, squeezing and teasing eagerly. He had desired this for years, and was only just now realizing how much. He had always wanted to protect and defend his little brother, and was suddenly filled with a heady desire to make him feel good and show him how much he was loved. He knew this might be wrong, was taboo, and might be regretted later, but the gap had been bridged and there was no turning back now.

"I like you on your knees," his brother breathed with a sly and quite anticipatory smile.

With deliberate slowness Thor pulled open Loki's trousers and drew out his cock. He observed it for a moment, the proud curve of it against the thatch of black hair, before drawing a thumb along the long vein on its underside. Thor's breath hitched as he realized how much he was enjoying this. He was filled with desire, and wanted nothing more than to make Loki feel good, wanted nothing more to experience the feel and response of his brother's body. His light touches drifted to its base and then up the dark trail of hair that led to his belly, feeling the muscles and smoothness of his skin. He thought of kissing him. At that moment Loki's hands intercepted his own, not ungently, and pushed them away. "I want nothing of intimacy, Thor," Loki said softly, "Only what you offered me."

Thor nodded, disappointed, and took Loki into his mouth up to the hilt in one smooth gesture. The sudden wet heat of it caused his brother to groan and twitch, closing his eyes and throwing back his head. The golden horns scraped noisily against the back of his chair. Thor looked up at him, at the exposed line of his long throat, and wanted badly to kiss and nip him there. Instead, he bobbed his head over Loki's cock, his tongue dancing over the head in every pattern he knew. His brother's little twitches and tiny swallowed noises were intoxicating to him. He wondered how this felt to Loki, wondered what he was thinking about as Thor pleasured him so. _Is he enjoying this as I am? Is he feeling closer to me as I do this? _He dared not ask.

Loki was getting close already, his twice-neglected cock needing little more stimulation. He fisted his long fingers in Thor's hair, seized with a shadow of the sudden violence that would mark him in later years. Thor grunted in pain, but Loki grasped only tighter, pushing the golden head hard against his groin. The future king of Asgard choked and resisted, peering up at his brother's horned visage above him with an expression of hurt. His green eyes bore into him with an intensity Thor had never seen. His voice was muffled around Loki's girth: "Brother– you are hurting me–"

Loki needed nothing more. With a quiet groan he came hard, knuckles turning white as he gripped Thor's head even more brutally, holding him in place as his hips jerked and he painted the back of his brother's throat. Thor sputtered and tried to cough. He was choking, unable to breathe, semen coating his esophagus and emerging at his nostrils. Finally Loki released him and leaned back, the ultimate picture of satisfaction. There was blood on his nails. Thor went to all fours, coughing and gasping for air. His own erection pulsed hard against the inside of his trousers, and never before had he known such a strange cocktail of arousal, pain and confusion.

For a moment there was silence as Loki breathed hard, eyes closed, and Thor wiped his mouth and nose with the back of his hand. There was blood there too.

After a moment Loki cleaned himself off with the facecloth, then fastened his trousers and stood. Thor stood too, more slowly. Loki had totally collected himself, and the hint of a cruel smile was dancing behind his mask of composure. His eyes met Thor's, then dropped briefly to his brother's raging arousal, obvious beneath tight leather pants. "I seem to have transferred my little problem to you, dear brother." He turned and strode to the door of his bedchamber.

"Come along now, we have a ceremony to attend."

Thor followed, sweaty and disheveled, his baleful glare boring into his brother's retreating back.


End file.
